"Just a little bit left." Cheng Zhiwei was tidying her things when a hint of alcohol wafted her way, causing her to ask subconsciously, "You've been drinking, do you want some sobering-up soup?"
"Can you cook it?"
Cheng Zhiwei nodded and stood up to go to the kitchen.
Zhou Lin glanced at the scripture and phone on the table, then followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway as he watched Cheng Zhiwei skillfully select sour jujube pits.
He asked indifferently, "Quite skilled, who have you cooked it for before?"
There are only two men in the Cheng family; Cheng Shang hardly drinks, so was it Meng Qiancheng then?
Cheng Zhiwei began to smile, having forgotten the past nearly three years, she seemed much more innocent and even prone to smiling.
When Zhou Lin asked, she straightforwardly said, "I've cooked it for Ah Lin before."
A flicker of surprise passed through Zhou Lin's eyes. She had cooked sobering-up soup for him? Why didn't he remember?
